Avalon
by General Kitty Girl
Summary: Alfred Jones, CEO of a multi-billion dollar enterprise and native New Yorker, finds himself sharing a fare with a gentleman member of the curiously word-of-mouth, Club Avalon. Per his British gentleman fare, it will be the first and last of their encounters...but the young Mr. Jones isn't quite so ready to surrender unknown possibilities.


**Warning:** CEO!America x Adult Entertainer!England

**Chapter One Characters:**

-America/ Alfred F. Jones

-England/ Arthur Kirkland

**~Avalon~**

New York City in the pouring rain was about as pleasant as being in an automated car wash without a car. The constant bombardment from the sky displaced filth in the garbage littered alleys and drenched perpetually disgruntled people racing for cover. Roads became coagulated rivers of steaming grease that smelled of boiled chemicals, only adding to the noxious stench of urbanized civilization. With the addition of screeching car tires, jeers from angry natives, and the pounding of rain on cheap tin roofs, it was hard to distinguish reality from some comic book nightmare.

He loved it.

Alfred had lived in this city all his life and adored it from its awe-inspiring skyscrapers to its overflowing storm drains. He traversed the inner urban sprawl as well as he did the iconic landscaping of Central Park, and felt as a part of them as the decaying bricks and tailored grass. This place was the stuff of legends, immortalized in literature and cinema the world over. It was a place everyone knew about but not everyone got to experience. New York was the living, breathing creation of countless imaginations and built on the successful and broken dreams of millions.

To Alfred Jones, CEO of the multi-billion dollar software development company, Revolutionary Initiatives, it was home.

Upon leaving his office earlier that evening, he'd decided to walk home rather than utilize the car service his secretary had insisted on. He hadn't known about the impending weather then but wasn't upset about it – if anything it excited him to have a twist on an otherwise monotonous day. Fortunately, the twists kept coming, as he rushed to a waiting cab on the corner.

"Reade and Broadway, please –"

"Broadway and Murray, with generous tip if you can get there in under twenty minutes."

The elderly cab driver and Alfred stared at the person who'd also slipped into the backseat seat, and it took them both a moment to process that the new fare was indeed a man. Though the fellow was wearing a long trench coat, the front was open and beneath was what looked to be an embroidered velvet corset, incredibly short leather skirt, and tall black boots with five-inch heels. He had clearly been waiting someplace dry before darting to the cab to minimize water damage, but upon looking in his compact mirror he had clearly not succeeded as well as he had hoped to.

Though Alfred couldn't understand why. Wet or not, the man was absolutely stunning.

His fellow passenger seemed to realize he was being stared at and looked up to the driver with a scowl. "Now you only have eighteen minutes before my generous tip expires."

As money spoke louder than courtesy in the world of taxies, the driver wasted no more time in flipping the switch on his meter and speeding away down the road.

"I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, sir," the man said absently, still focused on fixing his hair and make up in the mirror. "I will pick up the tab to your destination."

Alfred remained transfixed, even more so at the man's fluid British accent, and stuttered his reply. "Oh no, that's perfectly alright. You're clearly in a rush and I was only trying to…um…n-nowhere in particular."

For the first time, the man glanced over at him with a quirked a thick eyebrow above his underwhelmed expression. Alfred felt a wave of heat and self-consciousness when the other's scrutinizing green eyes roved over his entire form and seemed less than interested. "Then I suppose I won't be out much if you're only going nowhere."

A sudden and embarrassing laugh caught the American off guard and the young man immediately tried to pass it off as a cough that fooled no one. Alfred snapped his eyes front and tried not to look at his bench mate again…but after a while, curiosity won out over humiliation and he found himself staring again.

The gentleman really didn't seem to care.

"So…what's at Broadway and Murray?" Alfred asked conversationally.

"Nothing you need concern yourself with," came the other's reply, as he applied a tasteful redbrick lipstick.

Alfred really couldn't lie – he was pretty sure anything would look tasteful on this guy.

"Those are some…nice boots," he complimented.

The man stopped in his task and returned another unpleasant sidelong glare. "_Tête-à-tête_ isn't necessary, I assure you. You can file this night away under having briefly endured a quiet cab ride with a man wearing devastatingly good midnight fashion. We don't know each other and don't have to, as we will not be meeting beyond tonight –"

"How can you be sure?" Alfred quickly interjected.

It earned him a deep frown and the Brit haughtily snapping his compact shut. "Because I make it a point not to casually associate with rude individuals…especially when they're not paying me to do it."

That made Alfred smile, "If I pay for your fare and tip, can I at least get your name?"

The other wasn't hiding his suspicion and once again looked Alfred over head to toe…finding himself just as unimpressed as ever with the sopping wet, jean and t-shirt wearing, early twenty-something year old with a beat up bomber jacket. "Is my name really worth that much to you?"

The American smiled wider and pulled a damp fifty out of his pocket, sliding it into the driver's till, before offering a hand to his temporary companion. "My name's Alfred, and you are?"

The Brit inclined his head and seemed to reconsider the other a moment, before finally taking a card from his purse and placing it in said offered hand. Alfred looked perplexed and down at the simple black card with shinning gold filigree around the boarder, before noticing the cab had come to a stop.

"Thanks for the ride, Alfred. Try not to catch cold on your way to nowhere."

He didn't give the American a chance to respond before exiting the car as mysteriously as he'd entered it and slamming the door. Alfred clamored to the window and rolled it down, but all sight and sound was lost in the downpour still raging outside. The young man was heavy with disappointment, though not because he was freshly drenched, and slumped back into the seat.

He must have been one pathetic sight for the old man in the driver's seat to take pity on him. "He's one of those guys that works down at the Avalon Club."

Alfred perked up and looked to the driver, now pulling the cab away from the curb and back into traffic. "The Avalon Club?"

The old man shrugged and seemed eager to be leaving this side of town for the upper class neighborhood Alfred had originally asked for. "It's a gentleman's club for _gentleman_, if you know what I mean. Best stay away, kid…it's an unusual lot to get mixed up with."

Alfred smirked and looked down at the card in his hand…blank, safe for one word:

~_Albion_~

This night had indeed been full of intriguing twists, and as far as he was concerned, this card was an invitation from fate.

* * *

_Notes from the Author_:

;v;/ Hello all and welcome back to my archives. I have been in a horrid writing as of late and decided to just write the first thing that came to mind, and this happened. I dedicated this to my lovely Lady Pie, as her love of Arthur owning' any and every look is truly inspiring. I hope you all have enjoyed this as much as Pie did, as I may add more chapters to this in the future. We'll see~ Thank you all for reading and all my best, darlins~

Sincerely,

_General Kitty Girl_


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